


Day 30: whatever pleases you

by readbetweenthelions



Series: 30-day Kurotsukki Smut Challenge [30]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Airplanes, Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1958352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i really really enjoyed this au idea and i got to write a lot of banter which i LOVE doing so here take this it’s an au where they meet on an airplane. here’s the very last challenge piece for the month. it’s been real.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Day 30: whatever pleases you

**Author's Note:**

> i really really enjoyed this au idea and i got to write a lot of banter which i LOVE doing so here take this it’s an au where they meet on an airplane. here’s the very last challenge piece for the month. it’s been real.

The flight will be long. It’s international, headed back to Japan from the west coast of America. He’s spent a couple of weeks in California, mostly for work, but he’d extended the trip by a week to take a vacation. He’ll be glad to get back to Tokyo, though. He’s been craving food from his favorite restaurant practically since he left.

Someone sits in the seat next to him. But that was bound to happen. Tsukishima doesn’t turn his head, but lets his eyes slide over to look at them. He’s attractive, but the effect is a little ruined by the unruly shock of black hair sticking every which way above his face. Speaking of, he looks Japanese. But whatever, this guy sitting next to him is not important. Tsukishima intends to sleep through as much of this flight as possible, and with as little human interaction as possible as well.

Though it looks like he won’t escape that easily. “Headed home?” the guy asks, in Japanese. It’s almost a little odd, hearing it so fluent after all the English he’s been drowning in. So he’d been right about him being Japanese, then.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima answers, also in Japanese, smiling politely. Afterwards, he turns his head towards the window. He really isn’t interested in making friends.

“What were you up to in the States?” the guy asks.

“Work,” Tsukishima says. He looks over at the man sitting next to him, getting his first real good look. The guy is about his height, which normally would surprise Tsukishima, but these past few weeks in America he’s seen more people his height and taller than he usually sees in Japan.

People are settling into their seats around them, and the flight attendants move down the aisle, closing the overhead compartments and telling people to turn off their devices. Tsukishima sits with his headphones around his neck, unplugged from his iPod. It’s a gesture so the flight attendants don’t tell him off. If Tsukishima had his way, he’d be drowning out this annoying neighbor with the volume turned up all the way on the iPod, blaring the new music he’d downloaded before the trip.

“Fasten your seatbelt, sir,” one of the flight attendants says in English to Tsukishima’s neighbor.

“Right, sorry,” he replies, giving the flight attendant a disarming smile. He buckles the belt and the flight attendant moves away.

There’s relative silence for a moment, and then the flight crew begin to run through safety instructions, the first time in English and the second time in Japanese.

“You’re not very talkative, are you,” the guy in the seat next to Tsukishima says.

What, he’s _still_ talking? Why bother with the pleasantries? The flight is going to end in twelve hours and then they’ll never see each other again. It’s not worth it. “I’m not friendly with strangers,” Tsukishima says coolly.

“We don’t have to be strangers,” the guy says. “We’ve got twelve hours. It would be boring to just sleep it all away, don’t you think?”

His words are the exact opposite of Tsukishima’s sentiments, so contrary he could cry.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” his neighbor says. He holds out a hand to shake Tsukishima’s, but Tsukishima doesn’t take it. He only rolls his eyes and looks out the window of the plane to the runway outside.

“Come on, four-eyes, don’t be like that,” Kuroo says. His voice is good-natured, but the taunt still rankles. “You don’t want to shake my hand, fine. But your name would be nice.”

Tsukishima gives Kuroo an indignant look, and adjusts his glasses. He barely knows this guy’s name, and he’s calling him stuff like ‘four-eyes’ and thinking he has the right to be so _familiar_ with him? But Kuroo is most likely going to keep bothering him until he tells, so Tsukishima figures giving him a little information isn’t going to _kill_ him.

“Tsukishima Kei,” Tsukishima says grudgingly. “Don’t call me ‘four-eyes.’”

“Tsukishima?” Kuroo says. “Not a terrible name. Sort of a mouthful.”

“It isn’t that bad,” Tsukishima says. It’s _not_. It’s a fairly simple last name. Maybe not as short and sweet as Kuroo, but it’s not _complicated_.

The plane is roaring to life, getting ready for takeoff. The noise from the engines is loud and Tsukishima wants to put on his headphones and drown it out and just fucking _sleep,_ but Kuroo obviously has no intentions of allowing that. It’s a pity it’s probably too late to ask a flight attendant to reseat him. The plane rumbles and shakes as it begins to speed down the runway.

“Tsukki – do you mind if I call you Tsukki?” Kuroo says. “Your last name isn’t as short as mine.”

Give him an inch, and he takes a mile. “I mind,” Tsukishima says.

Kuroo ignores him. “Tsukki, whereabouts do you live? Like, do you live in Tokyo, or are you just flying in through there.”

There’s a shuddering and then a sudden lightness as the plane takes off. Tsukishima is well and truly trapped now. Twelve hours with this guy. It promises to be hell.

“In Tokyo,” Tsukishima says. Kuroo might bother him for his entire life story, but Tsukishima isn’t going to give it up easy. Kuroo is going to have to dig a lot deeper if he wants to know everything, about how Tsukishima moved there from Miyagi after high school to study and dropped out of college to work and how he lives in a shitty, ridiculously tiny apartment in a part of town that isn’t great but isn’t the worst.

“Nice part of town?” Kuroo questions.

“Not exactly,” Tsukishima replies. It’s going to be a while before the pilot comes over the intercom and says that electronic devices are allowed if they’re switched into airplane mode, but Tsukishima desperately wants to cover his ears and ignore Kuroo _now_.

Kuroo laughs. “Me either,” he says.

Tsukishima sighs. They’re just below the clouds now, soon to be in the thick of them and then above them. Tsukishima doesn’t care one way or the other about flying. It’s not thrilling, but it’s not terrifying. Mostly, it’s just boring. A necessity, not a treat or a punishment.

“So what’s the deal?” Kuroo asks. “You got a girlfriend?”

There’s a pause, Tsukishima taken aback at the forwardness of the question. “No,” he answers.

“A boyfriend, then?”

A longer pause this time. “No.”

“But you’d like one. Right?”

Tsukishima isn’t quite sure how Kuroo thinks he knows about Tsukishima’s sexuality. Had he said something to give it away? Anyway, his assumptions were correct. There was no point denying it. “Yeah,” he says.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon,” Kuroo says. He leans back in his seat, grinning with his eyes closed. “Or maybe you’ve already met them.”

Tsukishima watches him, bracing for more conversation. It doesn’t come, but Kuroo is looking awfully pleased with himself, sitting there grinning.

“It’s not any of your business,” Tsukishima says, “what my romantic life is like.”

At this, Kuroo opens one eye to look at him. “Tsukki, I’m trying to be _friends_ here.”

“I don’t need any friends.”

“Don’t think you could get any, with that personality.”

Tsukishima frowns and gives an indignant huff of breath through his nose. This guy thinks he can sit next to a person on a plane for less than an hour and thinks he has free reign to insult people?

“I don’t want to be strangers, is all,” Kuroo says. “When you end up drooling on my shoulder when you fall asleep in an hour, I want to know whose drool I’m bathing in.”

“I won’t be drooling on your shoulder, but I’d like to be asleep,” Tsukishima retorts. “Then I wouldn’t have to listen to you.”

“So impolite,” Kuroo says, but he’s grinning. None of Tsukishima’s usual tricks are working – no matter how much he scowls or how caustic his replies are. Nothing scares him off.

“I’m single, too, you know,” Kuroo continues. “No man or woman for me, at the moment.”

“No man?” Tsukishima asks, reflexively.

“Bisexual,” Kuroo explains, pointing a finger at his own chest. “See, _now_ we’re getting somewhere. That’s not the kind of stuff strangers know about each other, is it?”

“Didn’t ask for that information,” Tsukishima says. “Didn’t tell you mine.”

“But I guessed right, didn’t I?” Kuroo says, a sly, proud grin on his face. “You like guys. Which is it, gay or bisexual? Or something else?”

Tsukishima fixes him with a long glare, but Kuroo doesn’t move an inch. “Gay,” Tsukishima says eventually. Overhead, there’s a soft _bing!_ and the pilot’s voice says, in English, that devices may now be used. Those words are a blessing. Tsukishima plugs his headphones into his iPod and moves to put them on.

“Hey, now, we were just talking,” Kuroo says.

“Kuroo, I don’t want to _talk_ ,” Tsukishima says. “I want to _sleep_.”

“Tsukki, come on,” Kuroo says. “Talk to me for a little while. The book I brought isn’t long enough to last the whole flight.”

“That seems like poor planning.”

“They say to travel light!”

Tsukishima sighs. He lowers the headphones again, not even having let them rest over his ears properly. Kuroo beams at him.

Kuroo does most of the talking. He tells Tsukishima about what he’d been doing in America, drags details about Tsukishima’s work out of him, discusses his own career – if you can call it that; he’s working two jobs, one as a bartender and the other a part-time desk job. He discovers the two of them both played volleyball in high school, asks if maybe they might have seen each other at a tournament, and in doing so uncovers the information that Tsukishima’s hometown wasn’t anywhere near Tokyo, so they could have only seen each other at nationals and Tsukishima’s team never went.

It’s easy to listen to Kuroo. He’s not overexcited and jabbering constantly, like some guys Tsukishima had known back in high school who had endlessly gotten on his nerves. He’s a lot cooler than that. He’s even made Tsukishima laugh, a couple of times. Tsukishima still wishes he were asleep, but he finds himself growing more comfortable with Kuroo. They’re sharing the armrest and Kuroo’s knee bumps against Tsukishima’s and Kuroo says every word with his eyes locked on Tsukishima’s face. The more Tsukishima looks at him, the harder it is to ignore that he really is very attractive. Especially with the way Kuroo keeps looking at Tsukishima’s lips, even when Tsukishima isn’t talking; the kind of body language that says he wouldn’t mind kissing him. It’s a strange feeling, thinking someone would like to kiss you. It doesn’t happen to Tsukishima often, mostly because he doesn’t often let it.

There’s a small lull in Kuroo’s talking, one where he doesn’t ask Tsukishima any questions and Tsukishima, true to form, doesn’t ask any in return. Tsukishima feels boredom dragging at him. Strange – it’s almost as if Kuroo had been keeping him _entertained_ , instead of just _annoyed_. Well. Now’s as good a time as any…

“I’m going to sleep, Kuroo,” Tsukishima informs him.

Kuroo frowns. “What, and leave me with nothing to do?”

“Read your book. Take a nap. I don’t care,” Tsukishima says. “I’m done listening to you.”

“Harsh, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima shrugs. It might be a little harsh, but there’s at least nine hours left in this flight, and he can’t indulge Kuroo for all of them. He adjusts his balled-up sweatshirt under his head and settles in. He’s been planning to sleep for this whole plane ride, and he’s damn well going to take the opportunity. Ignoring Kuroo’s presence, he lets himself drift to sleep, dozing gently with his music drowning out even the sound of the engines.

Tsukishima wakes an indeterminate amount of time later with a jolt. The plane is shaking and Tsukishima snaps his head up, pulling off his headphones on accident.

Kuroo turns to look at him. “Turbulence,” he says. His voice is much softer now than it had been before. Tsukishima can see why. All around them people are sleeping. Outside the window of the plane, the sky is orange and pink with the setting sun. It will be setting for a long time – they’re chasing it, headed west across the ocean.

“How long was I asleep?” Tsukishima asks, though he’s already moving to check the time on his iPod. The time changes with the time zones, though, and it leaves him disoriented.

“A couple hours,” Kuroo says. “You make a cute face when you’re asleep, though.”

Tsukishima remembers the way Kuroo had looked at him earlier, watching his eyes and his lips and leaning forward just enough to say he was interested. “Please tell me you aren’t hitting on me on an international flight, where I can’t escape,” Tsukishima says. He’s only half joking.

Kuroo smiles. “I might be, a little.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Kuroo pushes his hair back away from his face with one hand, laughing. When he takes his hand away, it falls back in his face. _What a stupid hairstyle,_ Tsukishima thinks.

“Why do you style your hair like that?” Tsukishima asks. “It looks ridiculous. What are you going for, anyway?”

For a small moment, Kuroo looks wounded. “I – don’t style it. It doesn’t do anything except this.”

Tsukishima looks at him in disbelief, but Kuroo seems to be telling the truth. “Sorry,” he says.

“You think it looks ridiculous?” Kuroo asks, turning to look at Tsukishima. He’s not smiling. Tsukishima must have hurt his feelings. Which was impressive on Kuroo’s part, resisting it so long, since usually Tsukishima hurt feelings quickly enough to get people to leave him alone, and that hadn’t worked with Kuroo. He feels a little guilty for insulting Kuroo’s hair, because of that look in his eyes.

“It’s not – that bad,” Tsukishima finishes lamely.

“Just say you hate it, be honest,” Kuroo says. The small upturn at the corners of his mouth is back, all indication of bruised ego gone. “Your bluntness is the thing I like most about you. Well, that, and you’ve got a cute face.”

“Kuroo,” Tsukishima says. He can’t tell what the tone of his own voice is saying. Is he telling Kuroo to stop? To not hit on him, to not talk to him? Or is it more of a plea, wanting Kuroo to come closer?

“Tsukki,” Kuroo says, fixing him with a look. It’s not anything special, but it makes Tsukishima’s heart pang. He licks his lips. Kuroo will notice that. He’s always watching Tsukishima’s lips…

Kuroo looks across the aisle to the pair of people who are sound asleep, then turns back to Tsukishima. He leans forward over the armrest and presses his lips to Tsukishima’s. Tsukishima stays frozen stiff for a moment, but then he relaxes into it. Kuroo’s hand and lifts to rest on Tsukishima’s jaw. Kissing Kuroo is unexpected, but bizarrely nice. His lips are soft and strong on Tsukishima’s. There’s a soft smooching sound as Kuroo adjusts his lips on Tsukishima’s, and Tsukishima hopes the people in the seats in front of them have headphones on so they don’t realize that the two of them are kissing on this flight.

Tsukishima lets his eyes droop closed as Kuroo parts his lips and lets their tongues meet. He’s a good kisser. Tsukishima has found him infuriating this whole flight, annoying and far too familiar, but he can’t say he didn’t think Kuroo is attractive. Maybe it’s just because Tsukishima hasn’t been with anyone intimately in a while, but Kuroo’s kiss is exhilarating and hot and desperately tantalizing.

Though he thinks it probably shouldn’t have happened in the first place, the kiss is over all too soon for Tsukishima. When Kuroo pulls away, it’s only far enough that their lips are just barely apart, their breath warm on each other’s faces. Only after a few seconds staying like this does Kuroo move away entirely. He settles back into his seat, facing forward with his eyes closed lightly and a little smile on his face.

“You kissed me,” Tsukishima says.

“You kissed me back,” Kuroo reminds him.

 _That’s true,_ Tsukishima thinks. He hadn’t resisted in the slightest. Honestly, if they were somewhere other than a cramped plane with a hundred other people around, Tsukishima would kiss him _more_. But the circumstances are awkward, to say the least.

“There’s a lot of this flight left,” Kuroo says.

“I know,” Tsukishima replies. “I’m going to sleep through most of it.”

“We just kissed, and you want to sleep again already?”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. It was just a kiss. Just… “Well, what else am I supposed to do for…” Tsukishima checks the time. “…Seven hours?”

“We could fool around a little in the bathroom,” Kuroo says.

“Let me sleep,” Tsukishima snaps.

Kuroo’s voice is mostly joking, but he urges, “Come on.”

“Flight attendants really don’t let you do that sort of thing in this day and age,” Tsukishima comments.

“You’re probably right,” Kuroo says. “Sleep, then. It’s all you’ve talked about this whole flight.”

Tsukishima fights against embarrassment and leans over the armrest towards Kuroo. Gently, tentatively, he puts his head on Kuroo’s shoulder. When Tsukishima falls asleep for the second time, it’s with Kuroo’s cheek resting against the top of his head.

The lights come on in the cabin before Tsukishima wakes. The brightness makes him blink his eyes open slowly. He sucks in a deep breath as he straightens from Kuroo’s shoulder.

“We’re landing,” Kuroo says. “Home sweet home.”

“There’s…” Tsukishima says. “I drooled on your shoulder.”

“I told you you would.”

The touchdown is rough, jostling the two of them. Tsukishima can hardly wait to stretch his legs, to get off the plane and get his baggage and go home to his shitty apartment. It’s been weeks since he’s seen the place.

Around them, people are beginning to climb out of their seats, collecting belongings from the overhead compartments and stand to file out of the plane. The end of the flight, twelve hours back across the ocean. He’s probably not going to see Kuroo again, even after kissing him and sleeping on his shoulder for hours. The thought is a little sad, but, well, Kuroo is only an acquaintance. A short-term friend. One he may have kissed, but still temporary and fleeting.

“Well,” Tsukishima says. “Nice knowing you.”

Tsukishima tries to stand, but Kuroo pulls him back down into his seat. He holds Tsukishima’s hand with one of his own, and pulls out a pen with the other. He scrawls something in blue ink on Tsukishima’s palm.

“This is my number,” Kuroo says.

“Okay,” Tsukishima says.

“Nice meeting you, Tsukki,” Kuroo says. He stands and grabs his bag first, before Tsukishima, and he ends up several people ahead of Tsukishima in line to get off the plane. Those words are the last Tsukishima hears from him, even though Kuroo had hardly stopped talking the whole flight. It feels like a sudden and dramatic loss.

Tsukishima gets off the plane and heads directly for baggage claim, feeling strangely lonely without Kuroo next to him. He stares at the numbers on his palm while he waits for his suitcase to show up on the conveyor.

***

It’s three days before Tsukishima gets up the nerve to call Kuroo.

He’d saved Kuroo’s number to his phone, though if you had asked him about it at the time, he would have said he didn’t know why he was doing it. Kuroo was just a person he’d met on a plane, just an acquaintance, a twelve-hour figure in his life who was supposed to be gone in an instant. As for the kiss, well… Tsukishima had done a lot more than kissing with some people after knowing them less than twelve hours.

“Hello?” Kuroo’s voice says, muffled and scratchy through the phone.

“Kuroo?” Tsukishima asks. “It’s Tsukishima. Tsukki. We met on the plane.”

“Tsukki!” Kuroo’s voice is excited, like he’s welcoming an old friend. “I was hoping you’d call! We did a lot more than just _meet_ on the plane, if I remember correctly. And I do. Remember correctly.”

“That’s sort of… what I wanted to talk to you about,” Tsukishima says. “About – well. I was wondering.”

“About what?”

Tsukishima has to swallow his pride. This was the whole reason he’d _called_ , after all. He’d agonized over it for days. “I was wondering if I could… see you again sometime.”

“What, like a date? Seems to me like we already had one. It was twelve hours long, remember?”

“That wasn’t a date. That was a plane ride that you pestered me on the entire time.”

“But you do want a date, though.”

Tsukishima grudgingly agrees. It’s the reason he called in the first place, because he wanted to see Kuroo again. He remembers sleeping on Kuroo’s shoulder, remembers the way Kuroo’s eyes had looked when he’d suggested hooking up in the bathroom, and… well, he can’t get Kuroo out of his head. It’s _hell_. It’s exactly what Kuroo had wanted, he has no doubt.

“How about you come over for dinner at my place?” Kuroo asks.

“That’s – ” Tsukishima says. He stops himself from saying “that’s not what I had in mind,” because he doesn’t know exactly what he’d wanted to do on a date with Kuroo anyway. Take him out to a fancy restaurant? Coffee? Walk in the park? None of those options seem very _Kuroo_. “Alright,” he says instead. “Dinner at your place. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow at seven,” Kuroo confirms. He gives Tsukishima his address before he says he has to get back to work, and _see you tomorrow, Tsukki!_

The next day, Tsukishima shows up at Kuroo’s door, exactly five minutes after seven – he’d waited in the car for ten minutes, not wanting to show up early, and wanting to seem casual enough to show up a few minutes late. He’s holding a bottle of wine that he hopes will go well with whatever Kuroo is making for dinner.

Kuroo opens the door, and he’s exactly as Tsukishima remembers him. Not that he would have changed much in a couple of days; but the plane ride already seems like some kind of weird dream, an isolated incident that isn’t connected to the real world. Kuroo could have been a figment of his imagination, for all Tsukishima knew. But he’s there, leaning against his doorframe and taking the bottle of wine from Tsukishima’s hands and motioning for him to come inside.

“You’re late,” Kuroo comments, watching Tsukishima remove his shoes.

“Five minutes late,” Tsukishima defends. _And a calculated five minutes, at that_. Tsukishima notices with satisfaction that Kuroo’s place isn’t much higher in quality than his own apartment.

Dinner is simple, rice and meat and some steamed vegetables, but it isn’t bad. Kuroo talks just as much as he had on the plane, but this time, Tsukishima talks more as well. The bottle of wine is half-gone by the time they finish eating. Kuroo’s cheeks are tinged pink from the alcohol, and he looks a little ruffled and attractive, between that and his hair (messy as usual).

Eventually, Tsukishima can’t resist any longer. He grabs Kuroo by the wrist and pulls him closer, intending to give him a real kiss, not a quiet, barely-there kiss like the one on the plane. Tsukishima lets his lips push against Kuroo’s, their tongues licking hard against each other’s, each movement bringing an excited little twinge through Tsukishima’s body. While they kiss, Tsukishima slips a hand down to grab Kuroo by the crotch.

“What are you doing, Tsukki?” Kuroo asks, though it doesn’t exactly sound as if he’s asking Tsukishima to stop.

“You wanted to fool around on the plane,” Tsukishima says. “Well, I can fool around.” He rubs the palm of one hand against Kuroo’s cock through his jeans.

“My bedroom will be a hell of a lot more comfortable than the bathroom on an airplane,” Kuroo jokes. “And it’ll be more comfortable than my kitchen. Come on…”

Kuroo takes Tsukishima’s hand off his crotch. He holds it while he leads Tsukishima to the bedroom at the back of the apartment. Tsukishima doesn’t bother to look around that much at the décor of the room, focused as he is on what they’re in this bedroom for in the first place.

“Sit,” Tsukishima says to Kuroo. He points to Kuroo’s bed, at the edge of it, where Tsukishima will be able to kneel on the floor in front of him.

“You’re ordering me around in my own house?” Kuroo says, a smirk on his face.

“Will you _please_ ,” Tsukishima says, “sit down so I can suck your cock?”

“Hmm, well, I do like the sound of that.”

Kuroo sits at the edge of his bed and unbutton his pants. Tsukishima kneels between his legs, and sticks his hand down the front of Kuroo’s jeans to feel his cock through his underwear. He’s mostly hard already, but Tsukishima will just have to help him get the rest of the way. He mouths at Kuroo’s cock through his underwear as he hooks his fingers under the fabric, before pulling them down past Kuroo’s knees and eventually off completely. Tsukishima strokes Kuroo’s cock with his hands first, working him up, getting him completely hard before he starts to suck him off.

He does it gently at first, licking lightly at the tip and then down the sides. It makes Kuroo moan aloud, the slowness of it making him beg for more. That’s satisfying, being asked for more. Tsukishima gives it to him, wrapping his lips first around the tip of Kuroo’s cock, then forcing his head down to take more of it. His tongue pushes at sensitive places, and Tsukishima lets the head of him rub against the wet insides of his cheeks as he works his hand around the base.

“And you pretended not to like me,” Kuroo says, breathless and amused.

Tsukishima’s first reaction is to reply, “Well, I _don’t_ like you,” but he doesn’t say it. He supposes it’s not really true. You don’t ask for a date, a second date, with someone, you don’t put their dick in your mouth, if you don’t like a person at least a little bit. “Yeah,” is what Tsukishima eventually says. “I did. But I think I like you, Tetsurou.”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” Kuroo says. And, for good measure, he adds, “Kei.”

Tsukishima bends and takes Kuroo in his mouth again, letting his tongue do most of the work. Tsukishima isn’t exactly an amateur, and soon enough he has Kuroo gasping for breath, one hand gripping in Tsukishima’s hair to keep him close and the other stroking alternately his own body and Tsukishima’s.

“Kei, I want to – I’m gonna – ” he says. He brings a hand to grip the base of his cock. Tsukishima pulls back and lets him finish himself off, hand pumping hard on his cock over Tsukishima’s upturned, open-mouthed face. When Kuroo climaxes, Tsukishima feels Kuroo’s cum fall in his mouth, and flinches a little when some lands on his face instead, but he doesn’t protest. He swallows, licks his lips. With his fingers he wipes the excess from his face and licks that away, too.

Kuroo looks down at him. His face is still flushed and his lips are parted to allow panting breaths and his hand his still holding his cock. “Your turn,” he says. Kuroo and Tsukishima switch places, with Tsukishima sitting on the edge of the bed and Kuroo at his feet. He tugs Tsukishima’s boxers off, letting his erection fall free.

“Should have known you’d be big,” Kuroo says, putting a hand around the base of Tsukishima’s cock to steady it. “You have suck long fingers…”

Tsukishima lets out an amused breath, though it quickly turns into a gasp. Kuroo takes Tsukishima’s dick in his mouth, letting light suction and practiced lips and a nimble tongue do their work. Kuroo’s technique is a little messier than Tsukishima’s, but it turns out to be, surprisingly, exactly what Tsukishima likes. Kuroo is by no means new at this, and knows on instinct and practice where best to touch and rub and lick. The sounds Kuroo’s mouth makes around his cock are incredibly arousing, and the way he moves his _tongue_ …

“Ah,” Tsukishima says, his breath escaping him.

“That’s it?”  Kuroo says. His speech isn’t completely clear, since he still has his bottom lip pressed to Tsukishima’s cock. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Do it harder,” Tsukishima says. Kuroo shrugs and wraps his lips around Tsukishima’s cock again, head bobbing as he strokes Tsukishima with his tongue. It’s even more stimulation than before, and Tsukishima revels in it. “Mm, yeah, like that…”

One of Kuroo’s hands keeps a stabilizing hold on Tsukishima’s hips, but he brings the other up to play with Tsukishima’s balls and the lower part of his shaft, rubbing and tugging and stroking to bring out as much sensation as possible. Tsukishima’s breaths come hard and fast as he approaches his orgasm. Once or twice he calls out Kuroo’s name; small, breathy “ _Tetsurou…_ ”s, encouraging him to keep doing it, to take more, to make him come… Kuroo does, and when Tsukishima reaches his release, it’s with Kuroo’s lips wrapped around the tip of his cock so that his cum spills entirely into Kuroo’s mouth.

Tsukishima doesn’t know why he does it, but before Kuroo can swallow, Tsukishima leans down and kisses him full on the mouth. He can feel his own cum on Kuroo’s tongue when he pushes past Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo makes a small noise, somewhere between surprise, delight, and arousal. They kiss for a while, feeling the substance between them, warm and slick when they move their tongues. When they pull away from each other, they both have a coating of mingled saliva and semen on their lips. They both swallow.

“Ha,” Kuroo says afterwards. “I like that in a guy. Not afraid to get a little dirty…”

“Shut up,” Tsukishima says. “It’s my cum, anyway. And I swallowed when it was yours, too.”

“Mm, yeah, you did,” Kuroo says. His eyes are seductive and sly, remembering it.

Tsukishima kisses Kuroo again, mostly to shut him up. He still tastes like cum, but less so this time, more like himself again.

“We should have sex next time,” Kuroo says, after he pulls away. “Like, real sex. Where I fuck you.”

“We could always go for round two,” Tsukishima replies.

“Yeah, of course we’re going to,” Kuroo says, grinning. “What did you think I meant by ‘next time’?”


End file.
